


Claude's Night at the Ball

by kurikku



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Pre-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:15:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24084190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurikku/pseuds/kurikku
Summary: Claude feels out of place at the night of the ball. However, he's not alone.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 49





	Claude's Night at the Ball

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Center_of_the_Galaxy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Center_of_the_Galaxy/gifts).



> An exchange fic with Lia, thank you for this opportunity! I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> For those who love uncharted 4, please check her fic out <3

With a huff, Claude pulls his collar to no avail. He wipes the beads of sweat off his face and redoes his braid. Even without a mirror, Lorenz's nagging to be tidy plays at the back of his mind. Although, nothing can beat the messiness of his room.

The flame of his candle dances about, casting a long shadow against the tower of books. Tonight, he doesn't burn the midnight oil.

He leans against the window. The evening breeze brings along the hushed mummers of his neighbours, especially the one from the far end. Claude shakes his head, Sylvain certainly doesn't waste any time in bringing ladies into his room.

Claude pulls his stiff collar once more. Its hardness is similar to a rope's. In fact, holding his hand near his face, he could see the lingering deep marks resembling it. How could anyone stand being in this outfit? Furthermore, forcing every student to buy and wear it just for a night? Claude's beginning to think his White Heron Cup outfit would be tons better.

Dancing is fun under the right occasion. For example, the rowdy dances in Almyran feasts and rituals. They were always full of merrymaking and vigour. Also, they were one of the rare activities back home where Claude could partake without getting shunned or worse, killed.

Claude lifts his blankets, unrolling the crumpled tunic underneath. He recalls seeing the designs from ancient books about Greeks before. To think he had the chance to wear it and win the competition thanks to it still brings a smile to his face.

His grin widens upon remembering Teach's guidance during the practice sessions. It was a surprise when Teach chose him of all people to represent the Golden Deer House. For starters, Lorenz or Hilda would be a better choice. Anyone could see their noble upbringing and passion for dancing. Hell, even Hilda was begging to be chosen. Was it pure torment or did Teach really believed in him to win it? Her faint smile didn't answer.

Still, leave it to him to pull off the miracle of actually winning it. The woe of being great at everything.

His polished boots squeak. The thought of ballroom dancing drains him out. Doing those rigid formal moves only urges him to waltz out of the door. Lowering his gaze, he finds the absence of yellow jarring.

Clouds shroud the moon. His room is now as dark as his clothes. Suddenly, it gets harder to breathe. He runs his hands to his belt, grabbing the bow and poisonous potions that aren't there. The tightness leaves no space for his weapons, be it visible or invisible.

_"Never show your vulnerability."_

House Riegan's words echo in his head, drilling him the formalities and importance of acting properly as the heir. Their lingering cold glares prickle his skin. Somehow, his parents' words are mixed in, echoing the same painful sentiment.

The knocks on the door brought him back to his senses. Drawing a sharp breath, Claude wipes his clammy hands against his pants.

He opens the door to a grumpy noble.

"Greetings, Claude."

"Uh, hey there Lorenz."

Lorenz rakes his eyes from Claude's head to toe. The corners of his mouth tip slightly upwards. "I see that you're dressed."

"Nope, this is just my sleepwear."

"Attendance is mandatory, perish the thought of arriving late. You ought to set an example as our House leader." Lorenz's smile vanishes. With his hand on his hip, he says, "Unfortunately for you, I'm unable to escort you to the ball. I've many ladies waiting for a dance."

"Ah, and to the Goddess Tower as well, I bet."

"Well, if they wish to go there, I'll accompany them."

Again, sarcasm is lost on him. The idea of Lorenz making a wish at the Goddess Tower hasn't really occurred to Claude. Wasn't Teach lecturing him to stop disturbing ladies the other day? Lorenz could be really thick sometimes. Claude folds his arms and leans against his door frame. "Yeah, yeah. I heard you. You can go already."

Instead, Lorenz pokes his head into his room. His face twists in disgust. "What on Fodlan happened to your room? Also, why is your bed huge?"

Claude grabs Lorenz's shoulders and turns him towards the stairs. Everyone who passes by his room seems to ask the same questions! Surely there's someone with a room like his. For instance, that sleepy green hair student from Black Eagles that's always in the library. "Not gonna answer those. Just go already."

"I will, once your escorts have arrived."

"My what now?"

"Ignatz and Raphael. Strange, they should be here by now. Nevermind, we'll head over to them instead."

Seeing that Lorenz would surely come back for Claude if he doesn't follow, Claude blows out the candle in his room. He doesn't want to return to a blazing room anyway.

Slowly, Claude tails Lorenz from a distance. He can do it with his eyes closed thanks to Lorenz's strong rose fragrance. Still, Claude figures the noble would dress up more extravagantly for the formal event. However, without his rose, Lorenz seems, for a lack of a better word, plain. It doesn't help that he's looking at the back of his head too. Yet, somehow he carries his usual air of refinement. That's amazing in its own right.

Still, would Lorenz appreciate the advice to use his short cape to cover his head?

"It's too tight!"

Claude raises his eyebrows. He recognises Raphael's booming voice anywhere. With a quick eye contact and nod, Lorenz and Claude rush to Raphael's room. Ignatz is pacing about, collecting something on the floor.

"Buttons?" Claude squats and picks one of the rolling items up. He isn't sure the dread he feels is because of how tight his or Raphael's clothes are. "Oh Raphael, don't tell me-"

"Yeah uh," Raphael turns around. The buttons on his shirt have indeed dropped off. "I tried to button them but they snapped! This never happened before!"

Lorenz shakes his head and gestures the whole of Raphael. "These aren't your usual clothes! You can't wear them like that. Wait, buttons? Why aren't you wearing the same outfit as us?"

Raphael scratches his neck and takes off his shirt. "Ah, Anna said they don't have one that's my size other than this."

"Didn't she have almost a month to prepare? It seems unlikely for her to be so unprepared. I'll complain to her later." Lorenz bends down, collecting the dropped buttons. "Your outfit needs to be mended now."

Claude grits his teeth. It's a whole new battlefield here. He places the buttons on his desk. "Huh, you sure have it worse, Raphael."

Ignatz's hands tremble. "I asked Professor for help and she directed me to get Bernadetta's help. However, Bernadetta won't come out of her room! I don't know what to do."

Claude puts his arms behind his head. "Eh, surely there's anyone else who can sew."

"Sew, sew..." Ignatz abruptly stands up. "Oh!"

Without another word, he runs off. Claude blinks and the next thing he sees Ignatz returning with the oldest student in the monastery.

"Oh not to worry," Mercedes studies Raphael's shirt. "I can adjust it to look like ours in about 5 minutes."

Lorenz clears his throat. Giving a quick bow, he thanks Mercedes and heads over to the ball. Claude could've sworn she was glaring at him.

"Thank you so much, Mercedes." Raphael brings his chair to her. "It's not like I don't have other clothes, but Lorenz demands everyone to wear the same uniform."

"That's fine Raphael," she asks him to hold the candle for her. "We cannot change how he cares about his image more than anything."

Claude feels chills down his back. He has heard that she's a literal angel, mostly from Sylvain, but he's beginning to doubt it. Come to think of it, this is probably the first time they ever talked. "You seem excited yourself, Mercedes."

"Ah, nice to finally meet you, Claude. I am excited! It's been a long time since I have been to a ball. I can't wait to see Annette too. I'm sure she looks gorgeous."

While this may be their first time chatting, it would be a lie if Claude says he doesn't know her. He has read up on almost everyone in the monastery, including Mercedes herself. It wasn't hard to find out or picture that she used to be a noble. Despite growing up as a commoner herself, she exudes an air of refinement too, almost similar to Lorenz. Although, Claude doesn't expect her to miss ballroom dancing. She seems content with her life.

Perhaps if Claude has grown up as a noble, even if it is just for a couple of years, he might feel the same as Lorenz and Mercedes. He would be more used to such troublesome things like balls and etiquette. And maybe, he would have a happier childhood too.

"I can't wait too," Raphael beams. "Imagine the feast!"

His answer elicits a chuckle out of Claude. "Hah, you speak my language, Raphael."

Then again, there are commoners happy about the ball too, like Raphael. Claude has totally forgotten there's more to just dancing and mingling at the ball. Feasts always make him happy and included. If only it's that simple.

However, Ignatz continues fidgeting. He has been nervous for weeks as long as Claude remembers, more nervous than usual. There's something odd about the way Ignatz shifts his feet, on the same spot no less.

"Let me guess," Claude tilts his head. "Can't dance?"

"Ah... yeah. Not that anyone would dance with me in the first place."

Then, there are people like Ignatz. Claude recognises the flicker of fear in his eyes withholding him back. Instincts tell him that even if Ignatz is a noble, it wouldn't change his timid self. Feeling insecure is a universal feeling.

But so is feeling confident.

"Do you want to dance?"

"Oh erm," he mumbles, "maybe."

"I can't hear you Ignatz, are you telling it loud enough for the Goddess only?"

"I-I do want to dance, but ah, I have two left feet and so..."

A smirk spreads across Claude's face. He pulls Ignatz towards him, chuckling. "Then we shall! Never too late for dance practice."

Moonbeam illuminates Ignatz's petrified face. Claude sees his own smirk reflected on Ignatz's glasses and he laughs harder. Despite Ignatz's sweaty palms and him stepping on Claude's feet countless times, the smile never leaves Claude's face. Eventually, Ignatz fumbles his way in mirroring his smile.

Mercedes's and Raphael's cheerful laughter joins in. They clap as their dance ends. Their applause is thunderous.

"So," Claude releases Ignatz, twirling him around. Both of them catch their breaths. "It being hard to move about in this get-up aside, how was it?"

"Terrible," Ignatz says with a smile. "Really, my world is still spinning. I doubt this was how your practice with Professor went."

Claude simply bites down his lips. Truth be told, if his dance practices were like that, he wouldn't mind having it as a weekly de-stressing activity with Teach.

Raphael says, "Hey, I think that was great! Also, that's our White Heron Cup winner for you, putting on quite a show."

"My, what a fun dance! Golden Deer is certainly a fun class with you around, Claude." Mercedes shifts her gaze to Ignatz. "Moreover, bravery doesn't mean you're not afraid, Ignatz. Experiencing and overcoming failure is how we learn. We believe in you!"

Ignatz sheepishly scratches his head. "Thank you Mercedes, talking to you always calms me down."

"Happy to help," she puts down her needle. "And here we go, please try it on, Raphael."

He slides it on with ease. It's perfect to a T. With that, she dismisses herself, claiming she needs to check on Ingrid's makeup.

While Claude is used to sneaking around the monastery at night, the sight of many students being awake and roaming about feels odd. True to their words, the merchant family duo leads their House leader to the ball. Despite the fun times Claude just had, their wholehearted banter causes a dull pain in his chest. It seems that no matter where he goes, he's always the outsider of the group.

Claude turns to the night sky above, alas, even the stars have abandoned him.

It doesn't take long to reach the ballroom. Many students have dolled up, including Ingrid who is bashfully hiding behind Mercedes and Annette.

"I think I better head back after all." Ignatz cowers behind Raphael. Claude doesn't blame him for getting the chicken feet. "Please, Raphael. Surely this marks as our attendance."

"Hey Ignatz, we just got here! Besides, you're a hero." Raphael pushes Ignatz forward. "You're the reason why I'm able to be here so let's celebrate. To the dining table!"

Craning his neck, Ignatz asks, "Erm, what about you?"

Lazily, Claude puts his hands behind his head. He's not going to pull him away this time. "Eh, you guys go ahead. I'm going to look around."

In spite of the fancy, bright lights, he feels cold and unwelcome in here. He grabs a fruit punch off someone's tray, sipping the drink as he soaks in the gossips around him.

It's been a while since everyone assembles at the same place. The last time had to be the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Nevertheless, battles take all shapes and sizes and in this case, it's a political one. The other House Leaders mingle with everyone except each other. Claude supposes Edelgard has Hubert to thank for that. Hubert looms over anyone who approaches her and if looks can kill, everyone would be poisoned to death by now. However, Dedue keeps his distance from Dimitri, despite the latter's efforts in standing close to him.

Once more, Claude is the odd one out without a retainer. Perhaps it wouldn't be so lonely if he has someone tending to his needs. He sighs, hating that he's stuck thinking this way again. Even though the ballroom is spacious, Claude is feeling claustrophobic. The walls he dreams of crashing down are crushing him instead.

Is the whole world like this?

A tint of pink flashes at the corner of his eyes. He tilts his neck, observing the Golden Deer girls raving about their dresses. Claude's mind wanders off to Hilda's brother stationed at Fodlan Throat. Claude hasn't met him personally, however, he bets no one in Alymra doesn't know of his tales in stopping them at the border. Claude remembers the gush of relief when he avoided General Holst because of bad mushrooms.

Yet, unlike her brother nor Lorenz, Hilda is breaking walls. Be it nobles or commoners, she treats everyone the same. Bonding as if walls don't exist. If there's anything, he needs to take a page from her book, it's this. Having someone like her as his retainer would help.

"Claude, thank you for coming."

Claude swivels his head. His braid almost smacks his widen eyes. Seteth stands right beside him, wearing his regular outfit. Claude says, "Oh, Seteth. Not dressed up for the occasion or did Rhea said there's no need to?"

" _Lady_ Rhea." Seteth shakes his head. "This event is for our students. The faculty is simply here to chaperone. But of course, our attire is not a concern as we are always appropriately dressed."

Claude blinks, mentioning Manuela's name wouldn't be a wise choice. Especially when Seteth seems to be in an unusually good mood. "Right."

"Although I must say, I appreciate that you're well-dressed tonight."

"You can thank Lorenz for that."

"Hm. Anyway, now is a good time to tell you." Seteth's gaze softens at the sight of Flayn giggling with the girls. "I've thanked the Professor but I'm afraid I'd missed my chance to thank you, too. For saving my dear sister and taking care of her in class. It's been a long time since I've seen her this happy."

Claude's mouth parts but nothing comes out. Flayn has only been with them for a while now, yet somehow, she fits in the class of misfits like a glove. Mustering a small smile, he says, "... Don't worry about it. She belongs with us."

Seteth flashes the kindest smile before heading off to Manuela's direction. Claude shoots another glance towards Flayn. How easy it is to say she belongs when he's struggling himself?

"Hey, isn't that the heir that came out of no where? Brown-nosing with another faculty huh."

"Quiet, he can hear you."

Anxiety bubbles in his chest. Nevertheless, he masks it well. He's used to it.

Until he hears Teach's name.

More hushed whispers fill the ballroom. Claude maneuvers to the front of the crowd and gapes upon spotting a familiar uniform. It's Teach, dressed in the same evening formal dress as the female students. If Claude doesn't know better, she could blend in as a student herself.

The loud scoffs send his blood boiling. However, Teach remains unflappable. She looks straight ahead, her expression unreadable. Her eyes sweep the ballroom and he hopes it's him that's she's looking for.

As he takes his first step towards her direction, classical music envelops the ballroom. Hands are offered and accepted as students make their way to the dance floor. All eyes fall onto Edelgard and Dimitri gracing the ballroom with their elegant moves, all except Claude's. Although, no matter how smooth they moved, Claude stiffens at how rigid everyone is. He really can't stand these noble dances.

Claude gravitates towards Teach. Her intense gaze reminds him of class where she studied the class's strengths and weaknesses. Under his trained eyes, he catches her tightening her clenched fist. A pang of uneasiness hits him. Could she be suffocating like him too?

Eventually, she turns around and Claude wastes no time pulling her onto the dance floor. The subtle shock flitted on her face is priceless, eliciting his wide smile. Teach stiffens. Her eyes are glued onto her feet as she follows Claude's lead.

He whispers, "You must be thinking, ah, I'm trapped by social convention! I can't escape!"

"Claude," she doesn't spare a glance. "You should pick someone else."

"Come on Teach, you've taught me how to dance. Surely you owe me at least a dance, too."

Teach purses her lips. "... I can't dance."

"Well, seeing how you only tried to follow Manuela's instructions during practice, I can't say I'm surprised."

As if it's on cue, Teach steps on his toe. Claude presses his lips. His feet are still a bit sore from Ignatz's missteps earlier. "Hey, was that on purpose, Teach?"

"No, sorry." Teach adds on quickly with a glimpse of a smile, "I did warn you."

That only makes him shake his head fondly. "Were you finding your father earlier?"

"No, he's away for a mission. I was looking for you and everyone else."

Tilting his head to the left, he gestures to the dining table. "If you can find food then you can find most of us."

He doesn't miss the way her eyes soften nor the way the other House leaders try to trade their partners for her. Subconsciously, Claude holds her closer.

Unlike Ignatz, she hasn't loosened up yet. Every move is delicate and careful as if she's practising a fighting technique. Moreover, she hasn't spared him a glance. Does she despise dancing that much? Did she choose him for White Heron Cup as a punishment?

"Teach," Claude asks, "Why did you choose me to be the contest rep anyway?"

"... Because you're a star."

"What?"

"I asked Manuela what it meant to be a dancer. She said radiance. I thought of you."

Heat rushes to his cheeks. This time, it's his turn stepping on her foot. She shows no reaction as Claude flashes an awkward smile.

Finally, her eyes lock with his. She adds on, "You're always shining Claude, I knew you could do it."

"You..." he clears his throat. He wouldn't forgive himself if he couldn't say it. "You are too. You look great, by the way."

"Thank you. I wanted to match with all of you."

Claude takes a deep breath. Even Teach struggles to fit in, yet, she's doing her best. It would be unfair to keep her to himself. He'll show how popular and loved she is to those none the wiser.

"Excuse me."

Lorenz sweeps in, trading Teach for Lysithea. Reluctantly, Claude lets go and distracts himself by teasing the youngest student. However, seeing that Lysithea is trying to dance seriously, he straightens his back and dances properly for her.

His thoughts, however, lingers onto his previous partner. She becomes a quick favourite in the ballroom where everyone clamoured for her attention. The tense atmosphere and walls seem to disappear. He couldn't do that without her.

"Look at that, she melted the ice."

"What?"

Claude blinks and shakes his head. How rare of him let his thoughts slip. Nevertheless, Claude wishes she could remain by his side as long as she can for his dream.

Perhaps a visit to the Goddess Tower would do the trick.


End file.
